Little Boy Lost
by N.C.Faraway
Summary: Sherlock has seemingly fallen to his death. But how will Jim, who has survived, take the news?


"Jim."

Nothing. Silence. I bite my lip.

"Jim."

Can't answer. Don't want to speak. Don't want to think.

"Jim. Are you OK, Jim?"

Choke out a reply, "Yes. I'll be out in a minute."

He leaves. I stay. Check my ears, scratch my head. Yes, I'm still here. No, I'm not dreaming. Yes, I heard right. _He's dead. He's dead. He's dead and I'm still alive. _

"This can't be true."

_How? How can he be dead? He can't be. He isn't. Impossible. Simply impossible. He's just as good as me. He can't be dead if I'm not._

"Why?" I whisper, "Why does it bother me?"

_It doesn't. It doesn't bother me. I've been trying to kill him for years now. I should be happy. But you're not, Jim. You're not happy. You're not happy at all. I am! I am happy! No, Jim, no, you're not – be honest now. You're never happy. You can take pleasure in things but you are never, ever, happy. Well, if I'm never happy, then why should this make a difference?_

I press a button. A buzzer sounds distantly. A knock at the door.

"Enter."

Sebastian enters, "You sent for me, Professor?"

"A helicopter. Three crates of Magners. Abseiling gear. Fifteen minutes."

"Yes, Professor."

_Fifteen minutes. More than enough time to myself. Think, Jim, what would you do? What would he do?_

"Check," I whisper, "And check again.

_So I'll check. If I fell and lived, he fell and lived. Because that's how it will be – that's how it's meant to be: a never-ending battle between me and him. In a few short hours, I will know. In a few short hours, I will know if he is dead or alive. He must be alive. He must be! _

Fifteen minutes later, I'm in the helicopter.

"Should I come with you, sir?"

"No. Just leave, Sebastian."

"Yes, sir."

Start up the rotor. Adjust seatbelt – to hell with the seatbelt! Tear seatbelt in two. Engine on.

"Jim!" calls Sebastian, "Where are you going?" He puts a hand on my face.

"Where do you think?" Lean into cockpit. Ready the controls.

"Jim!" he calls again.

"What?"

"He's dead. You can't bring him back." He presses my head towards him. I hold back. He kisses my forehead.

"Get off!" I say, "Know your place."

He stands back, looking hurt. I take the controls, "You should've known you'd get burnt with me, Sebastian." I slide the door shut. Thirty seconds. I'll take off in thirty seconds. And if he's still here in thirty seconds, I'll fly right through him. _I must get there. I must know he's alive._

The rotors revolve. Sebastian runs clear. _Sebastian. He almost had a chance with me. I could see him by my side forever. But not now. Now, it all feels wrong. _

"Wrong?" I say aloud and chuckle. _What do you care about wrong, Jim? Since when did that word mean anything to you? Remember what you used to say when you were younger? 'Wrong is just another word to stop us doing things.' And you were unstoppable, Jim. Unstoppable. _

"Unstoppable," I say and the helicopter takes off. The night skyline gleams towards me. The city stands, unshaken by my flight. I press on, the horizon rushing faster to me. "Unstoppable." _So, what's with this, Jim? Why are you stopping now? You were going to spend today in celebration. "This is it!" you said, "Today I'll be rid of him! I'll be rid of that infernal pest!" You even had champagne prepared. So what's stopping you, Jim? Why aren't you doing that? Why aren't you satisfied?_

"Never," I snap, "I'll never be satisfied. Not until I know for sure."

_When will that be, Jim? When you look over the precipice, into the waterfall? When you get down to the water's surface and scour for his remains? When you find his body?_

I shake my head. "Focus on the task." I look back at the crates of Magners.

_Or you could get pissed, Jim? Go on, Jim! Drink away your sorrows! That's what they all did – your family back in Dublin._

I blink in shock.

_My family? No, Jim! Remember what we promised to ourselves all those years ago? We don't think about them! You left them behind! What's with you, Jim? Why are you even going there? You've had no problem with getting pissed before. _

"Before was different. He wasn't dead before."

_He wasn't dead, before? Oh, that's funny, Jim! I had no idea. All these years, I thought you were a grown man but really, you're just a Mummy's boy, like the old man used to say. Mummy's boy! Mummy's boy! Afraid of a little drink just because someone's dead?_

"Stop it!" I yell, "Just shut up!"

_Who you trying to shut up, Jim? It's just you. Just you and this helicopter and those three crates of Magners._

I stare at the Magners. _Go on, Jim, do it. Press the autopilot. Get pissed. Wash it all away with cider. You like cider. Drink it. Press the autopilot._

My finger comes down on the button. I let go of the controls. _Perfect. Now go over to the Magners. _I walk over to the crates. _Pick up a bottle. _I take the bottle in my hands. _Pull the cap off. _I pull the sharp bottle cap off, the perforated edges sinking into my palm, the blood trickling down my fingers. _Now drink! _I put the bottle to my lips, tipping it towards me. The cider flows down into my mouth, running down my throat, warmly. _Warm? _I spit it out.

"What is this shit?" I slide open the door of the helicopter. The wind sweeps in violently, strong enough to blow me back. I don't resist it but pick up the first crate and throw it over the side. The second crate. Over the side. The third crate. Over the side. _Some fool's going to get lucky. Or unlucky, depending on where the crates land. _I chuckle at the thought.

_They'll probably land on a rooftop or building, you fool! There's nothing to laugh about._

I stop laughing. _Can't do that anymore. Why not? _

I hold onto the sides of the helicopter and lean out, the night air rushing to my face. _What about it, Jim? Ready for another adventure? Ready for the greatest adventure of all? _

I free one of my hands. _One more, Jim. One more and it's all over. One more and you'll be gone, the pathetic mummy's boy you are. _

"I'm not a mummy's boy." I lean back into the cockpit and slide the door shut.

_Coward. You could have done it. You could have done it right then. But did you? No. You'll never do it. Because you're too scared. Too frightened to lose your precious little life. Go on, get back in, you coward. Fly on, flyboy. I'm done with you._

I take manual controls and bring her forward. The scanner reads, "30 mins to ETA."

_Now what? Sleep? We don't sleep, Jim, remember? Eat? We don't eat, either, Jim. So what? He would have known what to do, Jim. He would have known. Yes, he would have known, but he's not here anymore, is he? We'll find out soon enough._

I look out the front of the craft. There are no stars in the sky.


End file.
